


Come Back To Me

by morganaDW (morgana07)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Bottom Sam, Dominant/Top Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Porn, Protective Dean Winchester, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morganaDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Follow-up to ‘Just a Touch’. Dean returns to his time & place and must yet face a healed & fixed world while his brother remains damaged from Lucifer’s possession. He must either try to change his hard ways to help Sam heal or leave things as they are. However he soon learns that perhaps Sam isn’t as damaged as he was led to believe. *Hurt/sick/annoyed!Sam & Tense/limp/frustrated/caring!Dean* Is loosely set in the 2014 End-verse style./ Wincest (Dean/Sam)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language of course. Explicit warnings attached since this is Wincest. Also has mentions of a non-con event.  
> Pairings: Dean/Sam  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except the imagination to create the plot.  
> Since readers asked for the Dean from 2014 who made an appearance in the piece ‘Just a Touch’ to have a happy ending this is that story. While it’s a one-shot, the other story may need to be read to fully understand this one. Thanks for reading I hope you enjoy it.  
> For story updates or to chat I can be found on Facebook under morganaDW.

**~SPN SPN SPN SPN~**

** Sioux Falls, SD: 2014: **

“Have I told you how much I ** _HATE_** when you assholes do this crap, Gabe?”

Pretending to be hurt, Gabriel popped a jelly bean into his mouth while giving his best wounded Archangel look to the grim faced man he’d just delivered back to his own time.

“Hey, did I or did I not give you want you wanted?” he countered with an eyeroll. “You can’t touch your brother that way cause the kid’s basically a…okay, leaving that alone,” he had to remember if his two favorite Winchesters in the prime reality were intense then this guy was Dean at intense times infinity plus twenty.

“Yeah, on your terms and certainly not how I wanted to leave that kid,” Dean Winchester was tired, frustrated and now just wanted to be rid of the candy munching Archangel in hiding. “Of course if you could heal Sam the way most things in my time or reality or whatever you want to call it was healed or changed then we wouldn’t have this problem.”

That was a touchy subject and Gabriel knew it. He wanted to just wave his hand and heal the former vessel of Lucifer in this reality but it wasn’t meant to be…at least not by him or any other Angel. Of course that didn’t mean he couldn’t stick his nose in a little.

“I can’t heal Sammy…but that don’t mean he won’t come out of this on his own if you play your cards right,” he popped another couple jelly beans in his mouth while feeling the intense glare pinning him. “Y’see, whoever fixed this place did a number on both of you since it’s well known even in this reality that up until it all went wrong you two depended on one another so the best way to punish you was to take that away.”

Dean stared up at the fixed house of Bobby Singer where he’d taken his physically and emotionally battered younger brother home to once he realized the extent of his injuries. “They gave me back the little brother I’d lost…but they just left him with the mind of a child,” he sighed, feeling eyes looking down at him but knowing it wouldn’t be his brother since Sam hardly ever went to a window anymore. “He’s also scared to death of me.”

“A piece of him was left with the memory of your anger and hate at what he did when he accepted Luci’s offer so before I go back into hiding…after checking on the morons we just left…I shall leave you with this tiny tidbit of information, grasshopper,” Gabriel glanced at the house before stepping into Dean’s personal space seriously. “Stop being a cold ass bastard, stop pretending for five minutes that you still have to save the whole damn world and focus on saving what you love most because the kid you remember, the kid you lost a long time before he said yes…is still in there…if you give him something to come back for.”

Dean started to snarl but was standing in the yard by himself and it took a lot to keep from slamming the front door in his frustration. “Hey.”

“So, you gonna come clean about why you’re dealing with Angels again?” Bobby Singer was another thing fixed when the world returned to its pre-Apocalypse life.

The older man was out of the wheelchair and just as crabby, especially it seems about this matter as he looked up from the old book he was going through.

“Had something to do somewhere else that only Gabe could do so we made a deal,” Dean replied, pulling his jacket and had to remember to hang it up or else he’d get something thrown at his head.

“Oh, that’s real mature, idjit,” Bobby growled, suspecting that was what this had been about but still hoping the boy hadn’t done it. “You go back somewhere else just to fuck some kid who looks like what you’ve got upstairs all because you’ve suddenly got a crisis of conscience?” he demanded, seeing and ignoring the warning glare. “You hurt that boy, Dean?”

Slamming his hands down on the desk, it took Dean several moments to realize he was facing down one of the few men who hadn’t given a damn when his attitude changed and would still put him in his place; though it still hurt as he let the words wash over him again.

“No, I didn’t fuck him and I hope to God I didn’t hurt him. I also hope that his damn stubborn brother got his head outta his ass to help him or I might go back just to beat the crap outta myself,” he replied, slumping in a chair to rub his eyes. “I…I just wanted to touch Sam, Bobby. Just to touch like we used to and that kid back there…he’s been hurt so bad and like Sammy in so many ways that I wonder how in the hell the me in that place couldn’t see it.”

“I’m guessing it’s a typical thing for any Dean Winchester to be a mule-headed idjit when it comes to his brother,” Bobby slid a whiskey bottle over with a glass. “You look like hell, boy.”

Dean snorted, listening closer. “It’s too quiet,” he pushed to his feet. “Where is he?”

“It’s just been one of his quiet weeks ever since he figured out you weren’t here and that he was stuck with either me, Chuck or Becky to help him,” Bobby told him, grabbing for an arm. “You need to make a choice, Dean. You can’t coddle him one minute and then avoid him the next or when it suits you. It ain’t fair to Sam, either how he is now or was.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean snapped, exhaustion and bitterness raging in him. “I’m only too aware that he’s being punished for what I did or didn’t do. I also know how I’m treating him but it’s a little hard after all of that to watch my 6’4” brother reduced to the mental state of a child again; a child that barely speaks and more often than not hides from me when I’m in the room with him.”

“And a kid that sobbed himself to sleep nearly every night when he realized you’d left him…again,” Bobby replied stiffly, hating to cause more pain but knowing it needed done. “You can’t keep letting him get used to you being here, even if it’s outside or in the lot, and then take off when it suits ya. You need to stick it out, stick with him and let him know you’ve forgiven him or…and God it hurts me to say this to you but if you can’t do that then you need to get the hell outta my house and let what happens to Sam happen.”

Dean was around the desk before he could think about it to wrap both fists in the older hunter’s flannel shirt. “You think I’ll walk out on him? You seriously think I’d just leave him here?” he demanded harshly, head suddenly pounding and he jerked back to glare. “You want me gone, fine but if I go Sam comes with me! And forgive what?

“Forgive him for saying yes? Forgive him for doing everything I said not to do? Forgive him for running away from me when I gave him all the reason in the world to run?” he smirked, looking at the whiskey before turning away. “See that’s what I’ve figured out from all this. Sam was pushed into saying yes so I wouldn’t. I pushed him away by turning so damn cold and hard that my own brother couldn’t reach me so in the end, I’m not sure which of us needs forgiven, Bobby. I just know I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to him now.”

Bobby watched as one of the boys he’d raised like his own walk slowly up the steps before sitting back down with a sigh. “Damn it, Dean. Don’t you see that you’re both hurtin’ and you need to give a little?” he knew it wouldn’t be that simple since he was dealing with Winchesters and they don’t know what the words forgiveness or happy means.

Suspecting where his brother would be this time of day, Dean went to the room down the end of the hall that he’d taken to sleeping in after it had gotten to the point where it was safe to usually leave Sam alone at night because it had gotten too damn hard for him to sleep or stay long in the room they used to share ever since they’d been kids.

Dean was tired. Trips back to a different reality weren’t easy on the body and especially when he’d spent more than a day there. He wanted a long hot shower and to sleep until he could forget the haunted look he’d seen in that Sam’s eyes but he knew sleep would be a long time in coming since he had his own brother to see.

Stripping off the ever present thigh holster, jeans, briefs, multiple shirts to step into the hot shower, he didn’t stay in at as long as he once would have because he normally tried to save most of the water for Sam’s baths and since his brother probably hadn’t let anyone else close to him to help him with one of those the odds were good he’d end up spending the rest of the day getting Sam into one.

He’d meant what he said to the Sam back there. He would take care of his little brother no matter how hard it was at times or how heartbreaking it could be. Dean just wished he could see even one little sign that Sam knew what was happening.

Taking the time to shave before dressing, his fingers paused on the holster before leaving it off for the first time in years.

While the zombies were gone and there was just the normal things to hunt again, Dean suddenly knew in his heart that it would be a long time before he’d go on another hunt because Bobby was also right…not that he’d admit that to the man’s face…it was Sam he needed to care for now.

Pulling a grey t-shit on, he pulled a worn flannel shirt out of the closet to slip it on and seemed oblivious to when he also put on the black bracelets he once wore and suddenly felt the very strong lack of the amulet around his neck.

It had been many years since he’d really recalled missing the weight of the bronze amulet his brother had given him and he’d callously tossed away in a fit of anger…the night before Sam had left him.

“Damn,” he whispered, turning away from the mirror when it hit hard that it had been the night he’d tossed away the amulet that he’d lost his little brother and he wished he could take that night, among all of them, back the most.

Dean hesitated outside the room that he and Sam used to share and now was Sam’s alone until he finally gave the door one solid knock before opening it since Sam hardly spoke these days and never once to a knock.

Stepping in to the room, the memories of when they’d been boys hit Dean hard and then when they’d gotten older and now. Each period the room remained the same mostly with the changes being in beds, décor and style.

As kids, they’d had two twin beds, a couple dressers, a desk and a bookshelf with a closet they could split. As young men to adults, once Bobby had gotten over the shock of walking into one his sheds one day to find them making out, the twin beds had been replaced by a king sized bed with a larger dresser but still a desk and bookshelf for Sam.

Now Bobby had mentioned downsizing the bed back to a single twin so make more room for shelves for the books, board games, puzzles and other things that kept Sam busy during the day but so far Dean had refused that suggestion even though he could see the reason behind it as he walked in to see the disarray of the room.

Books, a few games, some old maps, an old toy truck that Dean was fairly certain had been his brother’s when Sam was six were all scattered over the floor while right then Sam was sitting with his 6’4” body stretched out on the other side of the room, on the opposite side of the bed, focusing on keeping the blue crayon he had clenched in his shaking hand within the lines of an old coloring book Bobby had found somewhere.

Dean had to swallow the lump in his throat as he stood and just watched his brother for a long moment. He was relieved that Sam was alive and free of Lucifer but it hurt him to see his brother still hurt so bad emotionally that to protect his own mind it seemed like he’d reverted back to his childhood days when things were simple and carefree, long before Sam had ever learned the dark truth of what their Dad did.

It also hurt more than he could ever let on to Sam to see how scared his little brother was of him now, not that Dean blamed him after some of the things that had happened between them before the final fight.

“Hey, Sam,” he called quietly, seeing the expected tremor go through his brother’s shoulders at the sound of his gruff voice Dean was a little surprised when his brother’s head lifted enough to peer at him with wide but clear hazel eyes over the bed. “Bobby give you trouble while I was gone?”

Sam’s hair was longer now, nearly as long as the version of Sam that he’d just left, and almost constantly falling into his eyes but Dean thought his brother liked it that way since the hair in his eyes kept people from seeing him fully or catching the occasional emotion that seemed to flicker through them.

Now as Sam watched him curiously, a rare small grin came to his face as if he thought Bobby giving him trouble was amusing but he didn’t speak, not that Dean expected him to.

Closing the door behind him, Dean managed to get through the maze of stuff on the floor to walk over to open a window to allow some fresh air in before turning to look down, seeing that Sam was favoring his left arm when something else caught his sharp eye and he went to his knees.

“Sam? What happened here?” he asked carefully before holding his hands up to show they were empty before slowly reaching out to touch the side of Sam’s neck and the small bruise he saw there. “Sam? Is that why you’re holding your arm like that? Did you get hurt while I wasn’t here?”

Scooting up until he was sitting with his back to the bed, Sam dropped his head to where he’d drawn his knees up but slowly pushed the sleeve of the old worn out hoodie up to allow his brother to see the finger shaped bruise on his upper arm but avoided his eyes.

“ _Sonuvabitch_ ,” Dean’s fingers reached out to touch but held back when Sam tensed and shifted more away from him and he was once again reminded of how much he’d lost and how far he had to go to regain his little brother’s trust. “I’ll find out from Bobby what happened to you but…it won’t happen again because I’m not leaving you again.”

He thought he’d seen a small flash of an actual expression of disbelief on Sam’s face but it was quickly gone to allow his brother to go back to staring at the crayon he still held in his fist or his half tied shoe, anywhere but at Dean’s face and the older man suddenly couldn’t recall the last time Sam had looked him in the eyes as himself.

Dean considered sitting down when the knock on the door had him standing back up and putting himself between the door and the bed, meaning between whoever was coming in the door and his brother even though from the corner of his eye the hunter could see Sam trying to make himself smaller and that broke his heart again.

“Yeah?” he asked, trying hard to remember that this was Bobby’s house and Sam should be safe there…until he thought of the bruises and considered maybe moving on wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I thought I’d bring a tray up and maybe you can get him to eat,” Bobby caught the tension on the older boy’s face but since Sam wasn’t shaking or hiding in the closet like he’d been prone to do at first he guessed it wasn’t too serious. “You should try and eat something too.”

Dean took the tray of food to place it on the bed but didn’t turn his back on his friend, instead he watched Sam’s reactions and when his brother didn’t look more scared he relaxed some.

“Who put their hands on him?” he asked before the older man could leave since it was rare for Bobby to spend much time up here if Dean was present. “You know only two other people besides you or Cas are allowed near Sam and those bruises were made by someone with hands bigger than Chuck or Becky. Now, do I get to kill the bastard or not?”

Eyeing Sam to see that he’d actually turned to lean on the bed while staring at Dean as the slightly more familiar ‘don’t touch my little brother’ tone came out in his voice, Bobby took his time answering because he’d known this would happen the first time Dean caught sight of the bruises.

“Becky had gotten Sam to go outside to the front yard a couple days ago because he’d been upset about you not being here. Well, someone had dropped by to get something and recognized Sam and he got a little heavy handed before I shot a load of buckshot into his ass and told him to get off my property,” Bobby replied, a little pleased to see the muscle twitch in Dean’s jaw. “You know that some people remember and are bound to have issues that Sam made it through that mess unscathed.”

“Unscathed?” Dean’s teeth clenched at the word, taking a step forward to push Bobby closer to the door and more out of Sam’s earshot. “How is this unscathed exactly, Bobby?” he wanted to know, waving a frustrated hand around the room. “He’s grown man who has been through Hell since he was six months old and now, thanks to whatever or whoever’s cruel idea of a joke, he’s free of Lucifer but has the mind of a five or six year old.

“He can’t stand to be touched half the time unless it’s by Becky…crazy former super-fan Becky for God’s sake. He doesn’t trust me and now I’m not sure who I can trust with him. So if this isn’t punishment for whatever it’s believed he did I don’t know what else would be,” he shook his head, squeezing at the bridge of his nose to push back the building migraine he could feel coming on after the trip back to the other reality as well as the stress of dealing with this. “I supposed people would be happier if Sam was dead.”

Bobby opened his mouth to argue but then closed it because he and Chuck had heard the rumors being said but he wasn’t about to tell Dean that right then, not that he had to. He knew Sam’s brother had a sixth sense for that sort of talk and saw it in the way Dean’s shoulders tensed then slumped.

“Huh, okay,” he murmured, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from fisting them. “You know it’ll take me six or eight months to rebuild the Impala again. By that time I’m hoping I’ve rebuilt some of his trust in me and then we’ll be outta your hair or if things get bad I’ll fix something up that runs and…”

“You ain’t taking Sam anywhere just because you think I don’t want you here or that I can’t handle a few morons with big mouths,” Bobby growled, looking over to see that Sam had heard some of their conversation because he’d slid further into the corner like he would when upset or waiting for a fight to happen or like he was expecting to be hurt. “You two idjits practically grew up here and I’ll blow the head off of anyone who comes around here seriously looking to hurt that boy.”

It took Dean a couple moments to work through that before he slowly nodded and accepted the hand on his shoulder much easier than he would have a week ago but he still didn’t move until the door closed fully. “So, you wanna eat down there or on the bed or…hey, what’s up?”

Sam’s whole body was shaking and just by the way he’d buried his face against his arms, Dean could tell his brother was either crying or fighting not to cry in front of him and food was no longer an issue as he eased down on the floor close to Sam but not enough that he’d feel trapped.

“You heard some of that, huh?” he asked, figuring he had and wishing he knew how alert his brother’s mind was from what was and the present.

Ever since Dean woke up alive to learn that his world had been ‘fixed’ to some degree but yet some things had been left and that while Sam was live and free of Lucifer but hurt in a way that Dean wasn’t sure his brother would heal from, it was a mystery to what was really going on inside his brother’s head from day to day.

Sam rarely spoke and when he did it was whisper soft words of one or two syllables. Though the one word his brother had yet to speak since coming back as himself was Dean’s name and it was just now starting to bother Dean about that because it had been his name that Sam first spoke as a child and usually whenever he’d wake up from a serious injury.

Reaching back to place the tray of food, sandwiches, cups of soup, crackers, a bowl of fruit cut into bite size pieces, a glass of juice in a spill proof cup and Dean decided to saint whoever sent the coffee up, on the floor between them.

“You thought Bobby was going to kick us out over what happened?” Dean reached for the crayon but held off when Sam’s grip on it tightened. “Okay, but you can’t eat that so can I have it until you eat some fruit or something because I don’t need Bobby or your ex-superfan jumping down my throat again if you don’t eat.”

Lifting his face, Sam rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes to wipe the tears away because he had been worried that because of what happened the other day either Bobby wouldn’t want them to stay or his brother would decide to cut his losses and leave for good.

He uncurled his long legs so he could move out of the corner more but still kept a safe distance between them, solemn eyes watching Dean much closer than he had because there was something different about his brother since his return from wherever he’d been.

Sam knew he was scarred and hurt from his time as Lucifer’s vessel. He also knew it had been his choice to slip back to a safer time in his mind because the guilt of what he remembered doing while Lucifer had been in control of his body, especially at the end with Dean, made him want to die again and not come back.

His first instinct upon opening his eyes three years ago to see his brother was to reach out and cling to him, not letting go for the next twenty or fifty years but he’d felt the tension running through Dean, he’d heard the hard tone and was scared that his brother wouldn’t forgive him for those mistakes.

Sam’s memory was flawless, another ‘gift’ from whoever had returned him to life free of the Devil’s influence so he could recall every fight he and Dean had had before he left his brother and their life behind, before he’d accepted Lucifer and couldn’t blame his brother for hating him…which is why it hurt him so much when Dean promised to stay and then he’d wake up to find him gone.

This time when he’d woken up to Bobby telling him that Dean would be gone for some time he’d fallen deeper into himself than ever before because he’d honestly thought his brother was gone and wouldn’t come back for him.

The incident outside the other day scared Sam because it reminded him that no matter what he’d never be free of that time or those mistakes. He’d wanted Dean with him so badly that he’d nearly begged Bobby to find him but he’d just hid away to wait for the time when the older hunter decided he was too much trouble.

Now Dean was back and he seemed different to Sam as he watched him from under long lashes while clinging to the crayon but accepting a sandwich with his shaking left hand.

From what little Sam understood or had heard since his brother and Bobby didn’t like to talk about ‘the time’ in front of from was that something had switched their reality back to a time without zombies, the virus, chaos or anarchy and without Lucifer in control of his vessel.

However whatever had done it had also still looked to punish them because while post people didn’t remember the time before, others did it seemed…including Dean, who it seemed remembered only too well and had a hard time letting go of the man he’d become when forced to deal with a world falling into ruin.

Dean was harder now than he was even after Hell. He’d been quieter but in the beginning prone to losing his temper and Sam had no doubts his brother still blamed him for what had happened which was one reason he’d pulled away.

Sam wanted his brother, he wanted to at least be able to feel safe or have the hope that one day he could work up the guts to touch Dean without the fear of his brother reacting violently or pulling away because he didn’t see Sam but what he’d been under Lucifer’s control.

As he sat now to take small bites of food, he noticed that Dean’s mannerisms had changed with this return. He didn’t look quite as tense, though he held himself on edge but a side of Sam wondered if that was because he was in with him or if he was on guard for a possible threat since it would take a long time before Dean stopped looking over his shoulder for those.

The younger man had also noticed his brother was back in jeans, t-shirt, flannel overshirt but had lost the heavy military style jacket. Though what had immediately caught Sam’s silent attention was that Dean was also without the thigh holster and weapon that had become second nature for his brother to wear even before things had gone bad.

It was realizing that the holster was missing that made Sam pay more attention to things. It also brought back other memories that made him feel uncomfortable and more than a little jittery since he hadn’t felt those feelings to the extent that he seemed to be feeling them now in a long time.

Then he heard Dean speaking and wondered what the hell he’d missed while lost in his own thoughts again, trying to catch up with what his brother was saying.

“You know, Bobby is right. You make more of a mess now with this stuff than you did when you were five,” Dean had managed to get one sandwich down and the coffee but left the rest for Sam since he still thought his brother looked underfed and too pale from what he’d been through the last few years. “Maybe it is time to…downsize in here to get you more room for shelves or…whoa! What the hell, Sam?”

The bowl of fruit was knocked off the tray to hit the wall under the window and while Sam’s eyes didn’t lift, the crayon in his clenched fist broke.

This wasn’t the first time his brother had acted out by throwing something but Dean knew that was usually if Sam was tired or frustrated and he didn’t look tired but as he tried to look at Sam’s lowered face he swore he could see muscles clenching in his jaw and his lip was being chewed on in the way he would when angry or hurt by something Dean had said or done.

“Sam, you need the room for storage more than even you need a king size bed just for… _sonuvabitch_!” Dean wasn’t expecting the sudden shove against his chest that knocked him to his back on the cluttered floor, his green eyes wide with surprise and just a low simmering of old anger that wanted to come automatically at the perceived attack but he didn’t make a move in return except to get up and move the tray to the desk, in case the soup became a casualty of whatever was disturbing his unusually agitated sibling. “Cranky much, Sam?”

The tone was just on the side of teasing, a tone he’d grown up with, but Sam still felt hurt that his brother wasn’t getting why the thought of changing the room was upsetting to him and he tried to get to his feet to move over to a chair in the corner.

“Okay, you never were much for change but Bobby’s been saying it for a year now that maybe you’d feel better with either a twin or a double bed in here and then we could make more room for…stuff,” Dean didn’t like the idea because it felt weird or too final but now that he was in here for longer than five minutes to see how crowded with books, games and stuff he could see the point.

He also suspected that the older man was worried that the king sized bed they used to share might, one day, bring back memories to Sam that couldn’t be explained since Dean had made it plain that he couldn’t go there again since his brother’s mind was too young.

It was those memories that Dean had kept the bed for this long even though he never slept in it when he did stay in here if Sam was sick or too upset to be alone. He’d crash on the floor or the chair but never the bed because that would’ve been too hard. It would especially be hard now that the urge to touch hadn’t gone away like he’d hoped it would.

“Bobby just wants you to be comfortable, Sam,” he sighed, feeling the pain in his head getting worse and deciding he should’ve slept before coming to see his brother because this was becoming too hard to handle. “I’m not in here all the time and…” his fingers reached to touch the bottom of the bed when a stuffed toy nailed him in the back of the head with uncanny accuracy. “Huh.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Dean shot a glance over his shoulder to see that Sam’s fingers where hovering over another stuffed animal while glaring at him with his best bitchface. “The last time you hit me in the head with a toy of any kind you were still small enough for me to grab and put over my knee. Do it again and we’ll be seeing if I can still do that,” Dean warned, voice dropping in warning and saw the small flash of fear in hazel eyes at the threat of being touched or hurt and he was about to speak again when he was hit in the face with the ragged cat. “What in the goddamn hell is with you?” he demanded sharply, knowing he was louder than he tried to be but this was getting annoying.

“You haven’t said more than a dozen words in three years, Sam! You won’t go outside unless Becky cons you into it or I make you and then you want to go deeper into the yard than I’ve explored so far to be sure it’s safe. We don’t share this room and even if we did we’d have to change the bed back to…you even think of throwing that and I swear that I’ll make damn certain you don’t sit down for a week,” Dean’s eyes slit dangerously when his brother’s hand moved to a heavy hardback book of fables.

Dean watched as Sam’s eyes went from the book to him as if debating and then just as quickly as the throwing started the younger man was in his face, placing both hands against his chest to shove him back away from the bed and toward the door.

It was plain that something had upset Sam but Dean couldn’t figure out what and was too tired to cope with this switch in Sam’s emotions right then, growling at the sudden strength his brother had and grabbed the shaking hands before they could shove again. “You want me outta here?” he asked tightly, tired and hurt but not willing to show that yet. “Try talking, Sam. You’re not mute so try telling me what the hell you want from me for a change.”

“… …go.”

The word was whisper soft but heard plainly and was like a knife in Dean’s chest but he knew he’d asked for it and he also tried to tell himself that his brother was upset right then.

“Okay. You’re upset over something and I’m tried out of my mind with a pounding headache so I think we both need space,” it wasn’t what Dean wanted, it wasn’t what he’d promised he’d do to take care of his brother but right then he feared if he stayed it would just get worse because he was still raw from that other reality. “You go back to coloring and I’ll check back before dinner.”

Dean made it to the door before he heard the soft sob that Sam tried to cover as he moved back to curl on the side of the bed farthest from the door. His fingers touched the knob as his chest tightened because it had always killed him to hear his brother cry, especially over something Dean had said or done.

He was about to leave, to get space and calm down until his head wasn’t pounding like a jackhammer anymore and the urges that he’d thought he’d handled were gone when a sheet of paper on the floor caught his attention and he picked it up.

Sam’s skill at drawing hadn’t improved over the years and the one in his hand now reminded Dean of when his little brother was in grade school and drawing pictures for their Dad…pictures that Dean still had.

The shape of the car was unmistakable to Dean as he looked at his brother’s drawing of the Impala with two stick figures by it and knew what Sam had drawn, unaware of the tear that fell until it hit the paper.

It was then that Dean’s eyes began to look closer at the many other sheets of paper scattered on the floor that he’d taken as pages from the coloring book but now that he was looking better he realized Sam had drawn the Impala in nearly every one and if it wasn’t the Impala then it wasn’t hard to see who the stick figures were.

Dean picked up the papers while still hearing the broken sobs and little gasps from the bed but it was a paper toward the closet that made him stop before having to sit down in the old broken down chair that he’d brought up from Bobby’s library.

“Shit, Sammy,” he whispered without realizing he’d actually called his brother the nickname he had used to Sam’s face in more than five years but he was stunned when it hit him that the drawings were more than just stick figures and a car but each one seemed to represent a piece of their lives. “Is this what you think I want? Is this why you’re afraid of me?”

The drawing, crumpled as if Sam had wanted to destroy it after drawing it, showed the two stick figures that Dean began to understand as them but this time the one little stick man was laying down and scribbled over in heavy red crayon while the other stick man stood over it with a gun that Dean thought was surprisingly well drawn as the Colt and it hit him that his brother had drawn his own death at Dean’s hands.

A quick look at the other drawings now allowed Dean to see that while he brother hadn’t been talking in words he’d been trying to with this drawings because he realized in another one it showed the stick man that would be Sam standing on the other side of a very high and thick wall trying to get to his stick man and the very shaky words he could make out were of Sam trying to beg him not to hate him.

By the time he’d gotten through half of the drawings, Dean’s face was wet with tears and he got it finally. The reasons that Sam stayed quiet or why he’d whimper whenever Dean would go to even touch his hair. His brother thought he wanted to kill him still, or hurt him because of what had happened.

Even as a child after a fight or when they were older and would argue, Sam’s doubts or fears at being left behind or that Dean hated him had been there but Dean hadn’t even considered that Sam’s mind was alert enough to…

“You’re still in there aren’t you, Sam?” he spoke quietly, looking up to see wide, puppy eyes watching him from where his brother still laid on the bed. “That damn quack Bobby had look at you didn’t know what the hell he was saying because…your mind is still…you can hear and understand me, can’t you, Sam? You’re just scared of what I’ll do to you and you pulled inside yourself to hide or heal fully?”

Big eyes blinked but Sam only moved to hold his hands out to show how they shook and Dean nodded. “You’re hurt physically. The damn Angels took so much from you when they healed you from Lucifer’s possession that it’s still hard on you to write or put together sentences like you used to but…you do have your memories. You remember out last fight and…”

Dean closed his eyes, letting his head rest back on the chair and felt like cursing the world. “You remember Lucifer killing me so you think I hate you. You think I’m doing the big brother thing out of duty and obligation and that’s why I keep leaving to do stuff so I won’t have to be with you any longer than I have to,” he watched carefully not every move Sam’s face made or when his hand slowly laid flat on the other side of the bed before trying to reach for a piece of paper on the floor.

“What?” by the time Dean’s slow brain was catching up to all the little signs he’d been missing or overlooking, Sam had grabbed paper and a small piece of crayon and had started to try to write something which wasn’t easy since writing anything these days was Sam’s hardest chore since his hands shook so badly and his grip was weak since before Lucifer had let go he’d broken nearly every bone in Sam’s hands and arms.

“Sam…” he took a deep breath as the paper was pushed toward him but one look at the halting, jerky childlike writing had him going to his knees and his heart wanting to either pound out of his chest or sink to the basement.

“‘ _Don’t…get rid of…it. Please…don’ get rid of…me_.’”

The paper and the other drawings fell from loose fingers as Dean’s head fell to his chest as the full weight of those words came down on him as he could hear those words so clearly in his head and felt the depth of loss and need in his brother’s tear filled eyes now.

That was also when Sam’s earlier reaction hit home with him. As Dean now thought about it nearly every time his brother had one of those fits was when someone mentioned changing the bedroom or removing the bed out to replace it with a smaller one.

“You don’t want the bed changed,” he murmured, understanding even before Sam’s head did a small motion in agreement and his hand pressed more onto what had been Dean’s side. “It’s when Bobby or I start talking about taking this out that you get upset and I end up getting hit with something. But it’s just to give you your own…”

“…Ours…” Sam whispered softly, trying to repeat it stronger until he hoped his brother understood. “Ours. Not…mine…not yours but…”

“Ours,” Dean finished the thought, fairly certain his head was going to explode soon as he struggled to fight down little waves of hope that had started to build. “This was our bed and you don’t want it taken away.”

Sam’s face fell a bit more at the past tense but he tried not to let that show too much, dropping his eyes again, his fingers curling in the bedspread. “…Oh.”

Laying his fingers lightly on the bottom edge of the bed Dean could remember the last time he and Sam had shared it and wanted too much to have that again but shoved those urges down as he went to move closer only to get dizzy and had to lay his forearm on the bed to keep his balance.

“I don’t hate you, Sam,” he began slowly, rubbing a hand over his face to try to clear his vision. “I could never hate you. You’ve been my brother all your life and my lover for half of that. We were jerked around by too many assholes and I let too many of ‘em come between us. I pushed you away at the end and if I hadn’t maybe you wouldn’t have said yes so what happened after that, what happened to me to change me or make me so damn cold, was as much my own damn fault as it was yours.”

Dean wanted to stand up, to move either toward Sam or away from if in case the urge to touch became too much but the buzzing in his head, the pain in his head and the sudden pitching of his stomach warned him that maybe just sitting on the floor with his back to the very bed that once upon a time he would have just face planted onto until he felt better.

He missed not looking at his brother’s face as he tried to get the words out that he knew he should’ve been saying for years and hoped his other self back in that reality had said similar ones to that boy but right then his exhausted brain was having trouble focusing on anything but not passing out.

“I blamed myself for losing you, for hurting you, for not trusting you. I didn’t protect you enough as a kid and I sure as hell didn’t protect you recently,” he shook his head, reaching for the drawing where Sam had depicted himself dead. “This isn’t what I’d ever want for you, Sammy. For Lucifer, when I realized you were trapped in there and still aware of what he was doing but helpless, I wanted it for him if that was my only way to free you but…I’d never be able to put my hands on you to hurt you now.”

Turning his head enough to see over his shoulder, he gave a small sad smirk. “Hell, I made a deal with Gabriel to go back to the reality where Zach brought that other me from that one time because I needed, I wanted to touch you so damn bad but I can’t because I won’t put my hands on you like that if you don’t understand it or can’t say no,” he almost reached out but knew right then he couldn’t handle seeing the fear in Sam’s eyes or hear him whimper.

“I didn’t do anymore than touch him because he wasn’t mine and in some ways he was more messed you than you though I didn’t like Gabe’s rules on how I had to leave him but that’s out of my hands now,” Dean thought he felt the bed shift but couldn’t open his eyes against the sudden pain in his head. “I thought touching him when get it out of my system but it didn’t…I want you so damn much and not just in bed as I’m sure people think.

“I want to hear you arguing with me or making snide comments about my music…if we still had a car, or just saying my name. I want you to come back to me. I want to hear you, feel you…touch you so bad and that’s why I don’t stay in here with you, Sammy. That’s why I don’t share this bed with you and why I lay awake down the hall all night listening in case you wake up or need something…need me and…shit, this hurts,” the hunter placed his head against his knees as the pounding got worse and suddenly Dean wondered if that damn Angel hadn’t screwed him over in some way since there was no way he should be this tired or in this much pain.

Not wanting to pass out in here and possibly scare or upset his brother anymore than he already had been so far today, Dean went to push himself up only to feel himself fall back down when his legs didn’t want to support him and things suddenly went black before he could think of anything else but thought right before his went under fully he heard Sam actually say his name except he wasn’t certain if it was real or his fading mind.

Hours, days or weeks might have passed before Dean Winchester’s thoughts began to resurface with a low groan because passing out never failed to leave him foggy and sore, especially since he was fairly certain he passed out on the floor of his brother’s room.

Laying still until his head was more clear, it took Dean a couple minutes to first realize he wasn’t laying on the hard floor and then from there he became aware of a couple other things that at first made him wonder if he wasn’t still unconscious and just dreaming because he was hearing Sam’s voice louder than he had in three years and it was closer than it should’ve been and he was hearing it say his name mixed in between a constant stream of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘wake up’.

Dean was just about to risk opening his eyes when he could feel warmth on his hand as it felt like Sam’s fingers were trying to place something in it but was having trouble making his often slow and stiff fingers move correctly which frustrated his little brother to no end if he took the low sound that was part curse and part whine to mean anything but what stopped him from moving was when he tasted salty tears on his lips and realized they were Sam’s tears.

Moving his head carefully to see if it would fall off his shoulders Dean tried to look from under his lashes to see where he was or where Sam was to be this close when he once again felt something being pressed into his hand but then the outline of what it was hit him and he thought he’d passed out again.

“Yours, De’n,” Sam was whispering now, voice ragged and weak from not using it often but right then he didn’t care if it was dry and breaking; he wanted his brother’s eyes to open. “Sorry, De’n…so sorry. Wake up, please.”

He’d heard his brother’s confession and had been trying to process it when he watched in slow motion as Dean’s body seemed to collapse and then he was scrambling off the bed to the floor while screaming Dean’s name until Bobby had come running.

It hadn’t been easy to convince the older man not to take Dean away from him but Sam was silently pleased if he was still one thing at least it was that he was stubborn and refused to let Bobby move Dean any farther than up on the bed where Sam proceeded to curl up against the headboard with his brother’s head laying in his lap.

For Sam the past few years of his life seemed like they were nightmares but the last five hours had been the worst as he’d sat with his brother, talking non-stop about anything that he could get to come out of his mouth and praying Dean woke up alright because the moment his brother said the name Gabriel Sam was worried about what the Angel had let him do or what he might’ve done in return.

The small bronze amulet that his brother had thrown away before their final fight had been picked up by Sam and kept safely hidden but he’d feared it had been lost during Lucifer’s rein in his mind but when he woke up he’d found it in his hand but he’d kept it hidden out of fear Dean still wouldn’t want it.

He didn’t know if he would still but it was a risk that Sam was prepared to take now as he tried to get it into Dean’s hand but his fingers were still too stiff and clumsy to do what he wanted.

Sam hadn’t cried real tears in front of anyone, especially Dean, since his return but it was hard this time to hold them back as fears of either his brother not waking up or of not meaning what he’d said began to build the longer Dean slept without even stirring.

The younger man was also leery of his brother’s reactions to being on the bed, of being with him rather than back in his own room or of learning that Sam’s memories weren’t as destroyed as people had assumed. He honestly expected Dean to walk as soon as he woke up.

Those fears among many others is why he didn’t immediately notice the change in body language or breathing as consciousness returned until the fingers of the hand he was trying to get closed around the amulet closed on their own, enclosing both the amulet and his own hand.

“…De’n?” he whispered, not aware that he was dropping a vowel or that his tears had been dropping onto his brother’s face until gentle fingers reached up to brush them off his cheek. He slowly stilled to watch clear green eyes open to stare at him and then just his breath for whatever came next.

Slowly opening his eyes to see Sam’s red rimmed, tear filled eyes staring down at him Dean didn’t move or speak for another moment as he finished taking in that he was on the bed they once had shared and that his head was in his trembling younger brother’s lap.

Sam was pale faced but he was also crying in a way that he’d never allowed himself to in years so Dean excused the paleness since he wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. His main focus was that he hadn’t imagined it and he had heard Sam speak his name.

Brushing the tears away with his knuckles, he brought the hand he was holding around the amulet up to rest it on his chest while not losing eye contact with Sam who was now biting his lower lip and he could still recognize the fear in Sam as easily as he ever could.

“Hey, Sammy,” he murmured, a little surprised by the deep huskiness of his own voice but felt better at the tiny shy smile that crept over his brother’s face at the use of his nickname because Dean knew he hadn’t been using it in front of Sam. “Do me a favor?”

Sam seemed to tense slightly and started to ease away only to have Dean’s hand tighten over his while his other hand moved down to lightly curl in the front of Sam’s worn hoodie. “Yeah?”

“Say my name again?” Dean knew it was stupid but after so long of not hearing his brother’s voice he thought it would be quite some time before he got tired of it, especially when he noticed the faint blush blooming over Sam’s cheeks.

A little shy at speaking now, Sam swallowed a couple times to wet his lips. “Dean,” he blinked when he heard it come out whole and not broken and his smile got a little wider. “Dean.”

“The first time you learned to say my name it was the only word you said for three weeks,” Dean told him, pleased to see an honest smile on Sam’s face for once and laid still for a little longer as his brother’s fingers stroked through his short hair.

The touch was unexpected since normally Sam didn’t let himself be touched and he never willingly touched anyone so to feel those long fingers against his scalp and hair reminded Dean of how long it had been since he’d felt anything close to pleasure.

It also reminded him that unless he wanted to scare the crap out of Sam this soon that he needed to move. “How long have I been out?” he asked, grudgingly going to move only to feel Sam’s fingers tighten in his hair as if asking him not to while using his other hand to hold up four fingers. “Four or five hours?”

Dean wasn’t sure he liked that though he did feel better after sleeping. Again he went to move because he was feeling a stirring in his groin that warned him laying like this, being this close might not be a good plan but stopped the second Sam’s hand laid on his chest to slowly move down until it slipped under his shirts and he hissed at the touch.

“Sam…” he looked up to see his brother’s eyes were calm and clear but slowly getting darker and when Dean moved his head a little he didn’t miss the change down here either as he felt the slowly hardening cock that doctors had once told them after Sam’s return might never work to get an erection again. “I need to sit up a second, Sammy.”

Sam wasn’t happy about that but he didn’t stop his brother from sitting up and began to move his hand only this time it was Dean’s hand holding his still under his shirts and against the warmth of his skin.

This felt weird to Sam since he couldn’t recall the last time he and Dean had been together but he also didn’t miss his body’s response to his brother and wondered if Dean felt the same or if he’d even meant the things he’d said hours earlier.

“I need to ask you something and I need you to actually try to answer me with words, Sam,” Dean unfurled the black cord the amulet hung from to stare at it for a long moment before slipping it back around his neck to feel the familiar weight settle back and also seeing the way Sam relaxed the second he put it back on. “Can you understand me?”

A small bitchface was showed and a huff. “Yes,” Sam rolled his eyes, guessing he should try to put together a full proper sentence to reassure his brother he wasn’t just guessing at words but his brain capacity did seem to be getting less and less the more Dean watched him or when he reached a hand up to tucked a piece of unruly hair behind his ear.

“Fine, if you can bitchface me still then I know you’re not feeling too bad,” Dean smirked a little, wondering if his hands were shaking like he feared they would or if he was rushing this. “Did you hear what I said before I passed out?” he had to swallow the sudden moan that almost came out when Sam’s fingers crawled up to find his nipple and tease it like he used to.

“Yes, Dean. I heard you,” Sam’s voice was still weak and ragged but he was pleased he got out a small sentence and it thrilled him to see the way Dean’s eyes lit at both his words and what his fingers were doing. “Did you mean them?”

Working on not groaning at the feel of Sam’s fingers, it was taking a lot of control that he didn’t have to not do what his head was saying to. “Never hated you, little brother,” he assured Sam, leaning a little closer to see what reaction he’d get. “I screwed up by chasing you away and it scared me outta my mind at the thought of losing you…before and now.

“I know how I’ve treated you since getting you back, since it all switched back, and I’m so sorry that you thought I wanted you dead or that I hated you but it scared me how broke you seemed and how scared you were of me that I…didn’t want to make it worse by doing something that you couldn’t stop or might not want which brings me to my next question…” Dean had to finally ease Sam’s hand away before he lost it right there but he smiled at the small look of concern on his brother’s face. “Answer me and then you can touch me however you want, Sammy.”

Sam was fidgeting and finding it had to focus at the feelings building that he hadn’t felt in years and he wanted to feel his brother’s hands on him so badly it was hurting but he made himself calm down to meet green eyes that were starting to shift into a deeper green as Dean’s one hand lightly curved over his neck in a move that was so basic between then that Sam thought he’d embarrass them both.

“You know and understand me, we’ve covered the facts that I’ve been a bastard who didn’t see what was in front of me or how much I was hurting you without even meaning to,” Dean’s fingers stroked over his brother’s face with a feather touch and smiled when Sam leaned into his touch more, something that he never thought he’d see or feel him do again. “I believed the doctor and when you never spoke or reacted to things like you used to…”

“I…was scared,” Sam bit his lip, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was and feared he’d disappoint his brother but he also wanted to try to explain. “At first, it…was hard to think and I was like I was when we were little but…the longer it went the more my memories came back but…you’d changed so much, gotten so cold and I knew what I’d…he’d done to the world, to you that I just thought you took me back because…because you had to…”

Sam’s breath went sharp as Dean eased away and off the bed and he feared he’d talked too much when he heard the sink in the small bathroom off the room turn on and his brother returned with water in the spill proof glass. “You kept leaving me and I wanted to ask you not to. I was scared you’d never come back and this time…well, it’s pretty clear people remember what I did and…”

“Drink,” Dean held the cup until Sam took a few sips, sitting it aside to watch his brother’s face and noticing the way his fingers played with his jeans as if nervous. “I kept leaving, doing errands because it hurt to see you like this. To think that I’d failed you so completely and that I’d lost you in every way that I’d ever had. This was the only room you’d stay in but I couldn’t stay in here with you without breaking the promise I’d made to myself and to you never to touch you if you couldn’t tell me no.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me like that anymore,” Sam replied, looking up with pools of tears forming again and his breath catching when Dean’s lips lightly kissed away the tears that fell. “I…wished and prayed you would because it’s all that kept me sane while Lucifer was inside me but when I realized he’d lied to me…”

Something about that made Dean smile faintly, letting his fingers touch Sam’s face before carding back through long soft dark hair. “The Devil lies, Sammy. It’s a rule,” he reminded him softly, easing closer when he felt Sam shiver. “What did he lie to you over anyway?”

“He’d told me…what Heaven wanted from you. He told me what the Angels wanted and I didn’t want them to hurt you so he said if I said yes that it would protect you because he wouldn’t hurt you either and he’d keep the Angels away,” Sam felt Dean tense as that sank in, realizing now how stupid he’d been. “I knew you were already angry with me, that you’d lost faith in me but I…I still loved you, Dean. I still looked up to you like my big brother and I…tried to protect you but…”

Hearing this and realizing how badly he’d misjudged things, Dean closed his eyes to avoid allowing Sam to see the emotions in them but felt shaking fingers touching his face and understood that in some ways Sam was still frightened and just as starved for touch and love as the boy he’d left in the other reality.

Only this time, with his brother, he could at least do something more about it than he had there. “It’s not your fault, Sammy. I don’t blame you,” he assured him quietly, turning his head slightly to place his lips against Sam’s fingers and heard a small gasp. “Do you blame me for being an asshole and leaving you locked in your own mind for three damn years when all it would’ve taken was for me to open my eyes or make an effort to show you that I still love you?”

“Love?” Sam blinked, not used to hearing that word to begin with from his anti-emotion brother and especially not since he changed so much after the Apocalypse happened or didn’t happen depending on who you asked now. “You still…”

Taking Sam’s right hand, which was his weakest since healing, Dean smiled slowly with a smile that he hadn’t used or offered anyone except his brother and pressed a kiss into his palm before repeating it with each finger until he got to his wrist to feel the pulse under his lips beating rapidly.

“I’ve loved you since before you were born, little brother,” he began deeply, lifting his eyes to see Sam’s eyes were dilating with a desire neither of them had felt in years. “Loved you as my brother, my partner, my best friend and…the only man who could drive me nuts and make me hard in under twelve seconds just by touching me and I still love you, Sammy. Now answer me one more thing.”

“God, you didn’t ask me this many questions when I was seventeen,” Sam muttered, not seeing Dean’s smirk because he was locked on the way his brother’s lips were slowly moving over his wrist and he became very much aware that his body was still alive. “If I answer yes to whatever it is will you please kiss me?”

Dean went still a moment before hiding his smile and nodding. “I will if you can answer me honestly,” he felt Sam’s pulse jump under his hand as he cupped the side of his brother’s face before locking eyes with him. “All I need you to answer is…can I still you kiss, Sammy?”

The question wasn’t even out of his mouth fully before Sam let out a low sound and then had both hands curled into Dean’s t-shirt to try to pull him closer. “Yes, yes…sweet Jesus, yes,” he replied in between a laugh and tears. “Here? In here? Now?”

“No place else,” Dean murmured before slipping his hand down to curve around Sam’s neck and moving slowly to give his brother the time to adjust or change his mind as his mouth closed over Sam’s in a sweet slow kiss that he felt Sam lean into which offered Dean the knowledge that it was safe to change the angle of the kiss, deepen it to a more heated one that soon had them both seeking more.

“God, missed that so damn much,” he muttered when he broke it enough to breathe but was still close enough to feel his brother’s breath when he sucked back onto Sam’s bottom lip. “Missed you, Sammy. I thought you’d never come back to me.”

The heat of Dean’s kiss, the familiar way his brother knew the exact way to kiss him or to touch him seemed to open locked down floodgates of want and need in Sam because moaned against Dean’s mouth when he kissed him again and wanting more. “I never left, Dean,” he groaned as fingers suddenly wrapped in his longer than usual hair to pull his head back and expose the long length of his neck.

“Want…want more,” he gasped, wishing his hands were steady like they used to be because he wanted to touch Dean, to feel the rigid muscles that few people knew his brother had but was worried he’d do something wrong. “Need more, need to feel you. Can we…do you want to…”

“Yes but…” Dean groaned as a knock sounded on the door and he knew only because he had both hands on Sam in some way that his little brother didn’t jump at the unexpected sound. “This is such a bad time!” he knew how he sounded, like a man on the verge of losing control or having sex and both cases would be correct. “What?”

“Well, I wanted to see if you’d woke your ass up cause I’m headin’ into town for supplies and didn’t want to leave Sam alone,” Bobby called through the door, not even attempting to open it as he went on. “I’ll lock the doors and should be back in a couple hours.”

Dean smiled and raised his eyebrows to earn a shy smile from his brother. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll be…fine, Bobby,” he called back, not missing the muttered cursed as the older hunter stomped away. “We’re gonna be more than fine.”

“Think he knows what we’re doing?” Sam asked, blushing at his brother’s look and tried to get his hoodie off by himself in the time it took Dean to get up again, throw the lock on the door just to be safe and dig around for something in the dresser that he hadn’t needed for a long time.

“Probably since these trips to town always came up if he thought I was going to have my wicked way with you,” Dean smirked but softened his smile as he watched Sam blush more and he knelt on the bed to reach to help him with the hoodie. “Let me.”

“I’m not fully the same as I was, Dean,” Sam murmured, ashamed of his hands shaking like they did or the scars on his upper body but gasped as Dean’s mouth captured his again as soon as the hoodie was off and despite the heat of the kiss, the feel of his brother’s tongue when it slipped in to renew itself with Sam’s mouth, he was gently lowered back to the mattress.

Dean eased back finally to sit on the edge of the bed, his fingers steady when he ran them over his brother’s chest but made certain to touch the scars that were a part of Sam’s sudden concern. “Neither of us are the same as we were the last time we made love on this bed, Sam,” he began, taking Sam’s hands in his to interlace their fingers. “We both have scars, inside and out, and it’ll take us some time to heal but…if you’ll let me help me now by this time next year you’ll be stronger and these won’t shake as much…except for when I make them shake.”

Sam’s laugh was soft but pure and enough to erase all the past pain and doubts as Dean quickly shed his overshirt to allow Sam to help him remove the t-shirt, not missing the flash of want that crossed his brother’s face when the shirt was tossed to the floor.

Sam was shaking now but not from cold or weakness but from the burning need to touch, to taste but he kept his hands on the bed rather than on his brother.

“You can touch me, Sam,” Dean leaned forward to kiss him again before sliding his mouth over to give small kisses to Sam’s face, his neck, his jaw before moving on to his ear and licking around the shell, hearing a soft whimper. “Tell me if we do something you don’t want to do or…”

“I want to feel you all over me, Dean,” Sam groaned, his hips wanting to push up as his jeans were now way too tight. “I wanna feel you inside me. I wanna taste you, lick you but I need to feel you touch me…now.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to groan, sliding the heel of his palm over his groin to feel his cock already hard and leaking through his jeans. “Yeah, this first time neither one of us will last long,” he muttered but batted Sam’s fingers away as he fought with the button on his jeans and the fly. “I want to undress you. It’s been too long, little brother. Let me take care of you, Sam.”

The deep husky pure sex voice Dean could get at times never failed to effect Sam before and it was the same now as he managed a nod, lifting his hips to help his brother in removing both jeans and underwear and then laid as still as he could to allow intense green eyes to look their fill while still finding it hard not to cover up or lower his hands when naked even though this wasn’t the first time that Dean had done this with him.

“Damn, Sammy,” Dean breathed softly, his hand just barely touching Sam’s skin when it skimmed down his chest to where his thigh and pelvic bone met before laying on his thigh. “I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful you were like this,” he chuckled when Sam moaned and blushed hotter since it was rare for him to ever say things like that to him. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been or how sick you’ve been, you’re still all long legged and tight muscled and…I want you so much right now.”

It had been over five years since they’d been physical and Sam was more scared than he wanted to admit but went limp when Dean’s hand caressed over his stomach followed by hot lips that began a slow crawl from his navel up his stomach before closing on one rock hard pebble on his chest to lick it, rolling it with his tongue until Sam was moaning and whimpering for more.

“Dean…please. Need to feel you, need to come soon this time,” he groaned, needing friction to his aching, engorged and leaking steadily cock but not wanting this to be over to soon. “Want…God!” he arched up at the feel of rough denim pressing against his cock as Dean slid up until he was stretched out on top of him, their chests pressed together as he slid his knee in between Sam’s legs.

“I know what you need, baby boy,” Dean was tense, feeling the way his brother stilled at the use of that nickname since only Dean was allowed to use that one and usually only when they were intimate. “You are so tight with need that you’ll come the first time I touch you to stretch you so…” he raked his teeth over Sam’s jaw before finding the spot on his little brother’s neck that made him squirm and moan Dean’s name. “…come now.”

Sam’s eyes were huge with lust and desire. He didn’t want to come this soon but the feel of the denim rubbing over his ultra-sensitive cock as well as Dean’s mouth and teeth kissing, licking and sucking on nearly every spot that he knew Sam enjoyed soon had him thrusting up against the denim covered cock and knee as his brother gave an expert roll of his hips and with a sudden scream he felt the orgasm rip through him with shuddering force. “ _Dean_!”

“I’ve got you, Sammy,” Dean had known this time would come hard and fast for Sam since it had been years since they’d had sex and he wasn’t quite up to asking what Lucifer had done with his brother’s body though he feared that was where the scars and broken bones had come from. “Shhh, I’m here with you. Just ride it out.”

Letting his lips glide softly over Sam’s face, Dean gentled the kiss when their mouths met as he gave what Sam needed right then and that was an outlet for his cock to find the friction it still needed as he slipped a hand between their meshed bodies to grasp and stroke Sam from base to tip to milk the orgasm as best as he could, feeling the warmth of come on both of their chests and on his hand now as just small bursts came until it slowed to a dribble and his brother went limp under him.

“God that was…I…” Sam was gasping, chest heaving as he tried to make his eyes open when he heard Dean laugh and wanted to watch his brother as he slid off the bed to shed his own jeans, briefs, boots and socks before using his own t-shirt to wipe their chests clean of drying come before settling back on the bed. “I’m sorry if I…mmhm.”

Dean’s mouth claimed his again, this time letting their tongues meet while running his calloused fingers down the center of Sam’s chest to curve over his side. “Don’t apologize for that, Sam. Don’t ever apologize for anything,” he licked over Sam’s lips before groaning when he licked down his chest to his stomach and could still taste his brother and felt his own cock leaking precome in a steady stream. “Besides, watching you come like that is still the hottest thing I can think of…other than knowing that I can still make you blush even after all we’ve seen and done. Now, can you roll over or do you want to stop for…”

Sam shot a dirty look as he rolled to his stomach. He was feeling tired and this part did worry him but he remembered a night when he was seventeen and his brother had lovingly and slowly helped him over the doubts and fears. “Will you…can you…” he bit his lip, letting his eyes hide under his lashes as he found it hard to ask for this simple thing after everything else he and Dean had done together.

Placing a pillow under Sam to support him a little more, Dean smiled while placing a soft kiss to the back of his brother’s neck. “I’ll talk you through it again, baby boy,” he promised, need and love making his voice more rough than usual. “Love you, Sammy.”

Those words alone were enough to soothe any fears or worries Sam might have had over being touched and he knew eventually he’d have to tell Dean the truth of what else the Devil had done with his body but not right now.

Now he was accepting his brother’s slow touches over his back to curve over his hips and down the swell of his ass as Sam’s body seemed to recognize Dean’s touch and knew how to react even after so long of being without it.

Sam pulled his knees under him more without being told to, feeling another pillow slid under him so his ass was more in the air and he moved his legs apart. He felt Dean’s solid weight behind him and could feel the heat from the cock that rubbed over the crease in his ass when he bent over his back to begin to kiss his neck and shoulders.

“…Love you,” Sam rushed the whispered words out because he didn’t want to make Dean uneasy and he knew that if saying those words was hard on his brother then he also knew that hearing them also made him uncomfortable but this time Dean stilled just for a second before his lips moved up to gently find Sam’s earlobe to bite hard enough to make the younger man shiver.

“I know,” Dean smiled against his brother’s neck, feeling Sam’s moan and then began to kiss and suck along Sam’s back and pausing every few seconds on a spot either on his shoulder or back to lave hot kiss before sucking and worrying the skin with his mouth that made his brother moan and push back against Dean. “Don’t worry, Sammy. We’ll get there.”

“Want you in me,” Sam groaned, feeling his own cock begin to stir to life again as his brother teased him with soft kisses over his skin but still nearly jumped when teeth grazed over the small of his back a second before Dean began sucking a little harder there. “God…please…”

Because Sam refused to acknowledge what Lucifer did while in control, Sam’s last pleasurable sexual experience was with his brother and it had been five years or more since that so even though he’d been basically sitting silent for the past three years his patience for this was at an all-time low.

Never missing a tell or sign in his brother, Dean could tell how close to the edge Sam was and so while he would’ve enjoyed just kissing and touching him the rest of the night he accepted that neither Sam nor his own cock would be happy until he gave both what they wanted.

“This’ll be cold for a second,” he warned as he flipped open the cap of the lube bottle to squirt a good bit along the crease of Sam’s ass and also some on his fingers before slowly beginning to work the lube into the crease. “Do I want to ask how you got the scars back here?”

“Probably, but can you not ask right now?” Sam was fighting not to push back into his brother’s hands as they molded over his flesh but didn’t bother to hide the moan that was pulled from him at the first feel of Dean’s index finger over the puckered hole that had only truly belonged to his brother since the first night they’d done this when Sam was seventeen. “More, Dean. Gotta have more than…ah!”

Dean had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming just on the sounds Sam could make by the simplest of touches, closing his eyes against the burning need to just shove his cock into the tight heat of his brother’s ass because the feel of the muscles clenching and unclenching when he slipped one finger in up to the first knuckle made him groan.

“You are so damn tight,” he murmured, remembering the first night he’d given in to the urge to give Sam what he’d been wanting since he’d been sixteen and how slowly and patiently he’d opened his little brother so that when he put his cock into him it wouldn’t hurt him too much.

Normally sex for Dean was mostly for the release and what pleasure he got from that. He’d never denied that he enjoyed sex and he also made sure his partner also enjoyed it but with Sam it was more and Dean had also known that from the start.

With Sam the emotions were there as well. He cared what pleasure his brother got from whatever they did and he always made damn certain Sam enjoyed it as much as he did and he never went in without some form or prep work.

This time was no different…except Dean wasn’t sure if he had the willpower to stretch him as long and as fully as he knew in his head that Sam needed.

Of course his little brother wasn’t helping in that area since Sam was moving his hips back with every touch of Dean’s finger and making noises that were only serving to heat Dean’s blood.

“Stay still a second,” he urged tightly, using his other hand to smooth over Sam’s hips to urge him to calm down while kissing his neck again. “You are still so damn hot, Sammy.”

Sam’s ability to think was quickly being taken down to single words again between the feel of his brother’s mouth on his skin, licking or sucking, and the soft touch of a calloused finger moving slowly in his hole until the ring of muscle gave way to allow it deeper into him and because Dean knew his every weak spot it seemed like the finger went unerringly to brush his prostate.

“Mmm, there! Yes, more right there!” if Sam realized what he was saying or shouting or moaning Dean couldn’t be sure but he doubted it since usually filthy talk was more his area though he’d taught his little brother what he knew and laughed softly as he worked one finger in and out but always made sure to touch Sam’s hot spot with ever move inward.

“You still like that, baby boy?” he asked tightly, using his weight as he pressed right behind Sam to help keep him still but groaned when his brother began moving his hips back to not only try to get his finger in more but also to rub against Dean’s cock where it pressed against the crease in his ass. “You like feeling my fingers in your ass? Stretching you open so you can take my cock like you used to. You still want to feel my cock splitting you open and…”

“Yes! Yes!” Sam’s eyes were lust blown but there was something buried in his face that showed that he was fighting something but unwilling to let it hurt what was happening. “Wanna feel you inside me, Dean. I need to feel you like before. Please…do it now.”

Dean’s cock certainly agreed with that plea but the big brother in him, the side that always sought to protect, knew that Sam was still too tight to take him without having more pain than pleasure was worth. “Tell me what you’re seeing that’s scaring you, Sam,” he spoke quietly while adding a second finger without too much difficulty to begin to scissor them carefully but let his fingertips soothe over his brother’s prostate with each move. “Tell me what I’m taking away.”

“Don’t wanna think about him right now,” Sam groaned, feeling his cock getting hard as a few drops of precome began to drip again but a hot kiss on the side of his neck weakened his resolve.

“Tell me how he hurt you, Sam,” Dean murmured, catching his brother’s mouth when Sam turned his head to meet his in a deep heated kiss; tongue licking over his mouth until Sam was whimpering against him. “I can’t take it away if you don’t talk to me.”

Adding a third finger while his brother was distracted with Dean’s tongue playing with his, Sam moaned and slowly began to rock forward to find friction for his cock again but there was nothing but empty space and Dean had slowed down moving his fingers. “Lucifer…fucked his demon slaves,” he muttered, relaxing again at the feel of a touch on his prostate.

“He…I was never in control but forced to watch what he did with my body but…at the end, the last time,” Sam whimpered when Dean’s other hand slipped from his hip to move between his spread legs to find and gently cup his balls. “I…I think he knew something was happening, that he was losing in a way he didn’t understand and…that time he eased control so that while he still had it…I couldn’t move to fight but I had full feeling back and my voice because he wanted to hear me.

“Earlier that day he’d told two of them that he wanted them to fuck me hard. So they took turns raping my mouth or my ass,” Sam’s eyes closed to avoid seeing whatever he thought he would. “They broke my hands because he’d given control back and I tried to fight when one of them fisted me and the last thing I heard Lucifer say to me before there was a white light and a lot of noise was…he said to see if my brother still wanted me after that and…”

Dean leaned up so his chest pressed against Sam’s back while he gentled his mouth as he kissed his neck and face, tasting tears and licking them away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, seeing a jerky nod and realizing what Sam thought he was sorry for. “I’m sorry they hurt you like that and I didn’t realize it. I’m sorry I was so blind as to not see how much you were hurting. I’m sorry for making you think that I didn’t love you like my brother still or that I wouldn’t still want this between us.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things in your life, Sam…but the one thing I will not be sorry for and what I never want you to be sorry over is what we do,” he nuzzled his cheek against Sam’s because he knew it never failed to make his brother smile, relaxing when he caught that small smile now. “Nothing Lucifer did or anything anyone could do would ever make me not want you or not love you and…Sammy, this may hurt more than I wanted it to but I really need to be inside you like…five minutes ago.”

“Want that to,” Sam opened his eyes now to see that his brother was still leaning over his shoulder and understood what he needed. “I’m alright with us, Dean. I’ve been waiting three years since first seeing you when I woke up to feel you again…please don’t make me wait longer.”

A hot wet kiss claimed his mouth before Dean eased back to adjust his grip on Sam’s hips, pulled his three fingers out of the now stretched hole and before Sam could complain about the loss he pressed the head of his cock against the hole to go as slow as he could.

Dean had feared from the amount of scarring and broken bones that Sam had after being returned to him that the damn Devil had done something like what had been described. He wasn’t stupid to think there was more to the story than what Sam was saying right then but would worry about that tomorrow.

Now he wanted to take some of those away as he tried to go slow as his cock slid into the tight channel of heat that was his brother and Dean wasn’t sure whose moan he heard because he was fighting to not thrust to go in fully so Sam could adjust to the feel of his swelled and ready cock piercing him but Sam’s body resisted the intrusion only for a second.

“Missed this,” Sam groaned, biting his lower lip at the feeling of fullness filling him and his body shifted back to try to bring Dean in fully. “Dean, I’m not a girl. Get in…ah! Mmm,” he ignored the laugh he heard in favor of the pleasure that came the second a roll of Dean’s hips and a thrust back brought his brother flush with his ass.

“You used to be the patient one,” Dean remarked, swallowing hard as his cock was enclosed in tight heat and he stayed still until he thought he could move without coming right then.

“Been too long. I’ll be patient tomorrow,” Sam muttered then tried to look back. “Umm, there will be…”

Dean eased back to surge forward again and knew the second his cock hit that spot within Sam because his brother’s ragged voice was putting out words he was fairly certain Sam had picked up from some of Bobby’s friends.

“There’ll be tomorrow, the next day, the day after that and…however many more times and days that you want, little brother,” he assured him, leaning forward so that he could wrap one arm around Sam’s chest while his other slid down to take the fully hard cock in his hand to begin to stroke in with slow and sure strokes while his hips were moving in tiny thrusts to take and give pleasure. “Mine.”

That single word served to ignite Sam faster than anything else ever could and he found a pattern to move in that would match his brother’s but soon the feel of Dean’s cock hitting his prostate with every thrust left him gasping and begging.

“More, Dean. Faster…harder…shit!” he bit his lip to keep from screaming when Dean’s mouth and teeth began to nip and suck over his jaw and down to his neck before he locked on to the soft skin at the curve of Sam’s collarbone until both knew they’d be explaining the marks and bruises left by Dean’s teeth to Bobby. “Gotta come. Please, Dean…gotta…but you…want you to…”

Years of growing up and being with Sam allowed Dean to translate the broken words and pleas into something he could understand. “Up, Sam,” he growled lowly, using the arm he had around his brother’s chest to pull him back so they were both on their knees on the bed and the change in angle also meant Dean’s cock was pressing against Sam’s sweet spot steady and it was like a button was pushed.

Sam was trembling as sweat formed and he met his brother’s thrusts by grinding his hips back and clenching the muscles in his ass to lock around the cock inside while his arms moved to grip Dean’s ass while the hand on his cock began to stroke faster.

His hips were constantly moving to grab friction from Dean’s hand and also to keep that low buzz on his prostate. “Dean? Think one time after we wake up…can I suck you?” he asked, gasping as his chest heaved from the exertion.

“Kill me with a line like that,” Dean groaned, biting against Sam’s shoulder but always careful not to draw blood though he enjoyed the marks that took days to go away because Sam never tried to hide them away. “Sure, in about twelve hours.”

“Getting old, Dean,” Sam teased, a little surprised that it could be this easy between them again but laughed at the growled threat he heard against his ear and then gasped when he felt his brother jerk once, the feeling of warmth filling him.

Dean had felt his balls drawing up a moment before the orgasm hit, the scream of release was muffled as his mouth was currently busy sucking an interesting array of hickeys over his brother’s neck.

Sam’s muscles had clenched over him to milk his cock as he continued to thrust and come shot out inside Sam who was moaning and begging to come and while Dean’s hips had slowed down to just slow rolls and his cock pressed over his brother’s prostate, Dean shifted his grip to allow his thumb to press against the slit. “Come now, Sammy.”

“I…Dean!” Sam cried out but his brother’s name was the only distinguishable word as he watched white strips of come shoot out over his brother’s hand, the bed and his stomach again as he actually keened as he rode his second orgasm of the night out.

Dean could feel his cock softening but stayed still to support and coax Sam through his, feeling a tear on his face from the emotion of just watching Sam’s head fall back against his shoulder as he whimpered pleas, thanks and things Dean would need to decipher later until he went limp.

His fingers stroked the slowly softening cock a few more times until Sam finally whimpered because it was too sensitive now and it was just on the edge of pain.

“Sammy?” he murmured, gently kissing his brother’s neck and smiling when he only got a soft murmur and understood the second climax on top of what they’d just shared had knocked his brother out for a couple minutes. “Thank you.”

By the time he came down from the high, Sam’s sex fuzzed brain registered that he’d been cleaned up, dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and tucked under a clean bedspread. A low cloud of panic started to build when he felt a warm hand on his chest.

“I’m with you,” Dean spoke in the darkened room, lit only by a light from the desk.

The older Winchester had suspected Sam would think he was alone when he woke up because he wasn’t used to waking up to his brother, another thing Dean planned to change now.

“It wasn’t a dream?” Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes to see that Dean was laying on his back with one arm curled over Sam’s shoulders as he held him against his side like he always had after sex.

“You have a lot of sex dreams, little brother?” Dean asked with a dry grin, carding his fingers through Sam’s hair before returning it to his chest while his watched his brother’s hand move to search for and find the amulet.

“A few over the last few years,” Sam was tired and wanted to sleep but felt he needed to make sure they were good. “Dean, is this…what we…I mean, are we…”

Dean’s fingers gently touched Sam’s chest to trace the anti-possession tattoo they each still wore. He understood his brother’s fears and knew it would be some time before Sam was over all of them. “Yeah, we’re good, Sammy,” he promised him, shifting a little so he could offer a soft kiss.

The slow and soft kisses as Sam knew were his brother’s way of showing his love for him without too many words and that was fine for Sam. He returned the kiss before settling his head against Dean’s chest to lay in silence for a few moments.

“I saw the Impala,” he spoke finally, not mentioning that Bobby had thrown one hell of a fit when he realized Sam had gotten out of the house without anyone knowing it. “You are fixing her, right?”

Dean smiled against the top of Sam’s head. While Bobby’s place was good and safe it wasn’t home for Sam. That honor belonged to the Impala; the car that a long war and years of damage had finally taken a toll on.

It laid out in the garage area rusted out, dented and missing a few things but Dean would fix it because if he had two loves in his life it was his brother and the car they were raised in.

He was in the process of fixing the one and he would see the other fixed by year’s end. “Yeah, Sammy, I’m going to fix her,” he replied in a voice thick with emotion. “You can hand me tools but you’re still not touching the radio.”

Sam’s laugh came openly and easily and Dean’s arm tightened just a fraction to hold him tighter as he began to relax for the first time in years.

“Stay with me tonight?” Sam asked, lifting his head to look but caught bright green eyes watching him and knew he wouldn’t be sleeping alone anymore. “Can I keep the books?”

“You can keep whatever you want in here, Sam,” Dean told him, letting his brother settle again before beginning to card his fingers through hair that he decided he wouldn’t bitch about too much. “Missed sleeping with you.”

“I missed you period,” Sam murmured, holding the amulet but spreading the fingers of his other hand over his brother’s heart but didn’t seem to notice that they weren’t shaking like they had been. “It was lonely in here.”

Dean understood that since it had been lonely on his side too. “You know it won’t be fully easy to fix things,” he’d do what he could to protect his brother and would have Bobby spread the word to those who might look to hurt Sam that it wouldn’t be wise but he also decided it was time to get Cas off his orgy loving ass and back to using his powers.

“I know, Dean,” Sam got the risk and knew that he and Dean still had a ways to go after so many years apart but would fight to keep what he’d regained. “Love you,” he whispered softly, feeling the way the fingers in his hair stopped moving for a second but then resumed.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean murmured, kissing his hair as Sam fell to sleep for the first time in three years without an issue and as he laid still to listen for Bobby’s truck to return, he wondered briefly about their counterparts and hoped his other self had fixed his own issues because he really didn’t want to go back there to beat himself up.

His eyes closed slowly, listening to his brother’s breathing and smiling. He’d gotten what he wanted. His little brother would heal. They’d heal and he made a mental note to avoid anything that he’d picked up from his counterpart’s world because the last thing Dean needed was black gooey monsters.

“Welcome home, Sammy,” he whispered before falling to sleep fully and feeling like he’d also come back home.

**The End**

 


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